Defeat
by Poseidon321
Summary: One shot: What is lost in victory will be gained in defeat. But was it worth it? After the Winter Cup, this is the question Akashi Seijuurou asks himself.


I stood on court amidst the roar of the crowd. The Winter Cup was over. In a bitter battle between the Emperor and the Challengers, skills were tested, emotions ran high, old rivalries boiled to the surface, and now, after it was all over, I, for the first time, tasted defeat. With Nebuya on my left and Mibuchi on my right, Kotarou and Mayuzumi next to him, all of them tense, I felt as if I had disappointed not just them, but the whole world.

Though I did smile when I stood in front of him, the pain stormed inside.

 _You pushed me aside, and you still didn't win. I think you are my weakness._

I'd very much like to blame this loss on him. To drop the weight of my unforgivable transgressions on him. To see that it was not I who lost, but him.

But I can't. I am him, and he is me. Two sides of the same coin, locked together. Unfortunately, neither could do what we set out to do.

 _Everything you say is correct? Don't make me laugh, Akashi._

For the first time, Shintarou, you were right in the face of my judgement. I said I wanted to remain your enemy, and I dearly regret that. You brought me intellect that could match my own. You were always a wonderful rival and an even better friend.

I looked over to Shutoku, their players standing proudly with their third-place medals. I saw Shintarou wearing his usual face of calm. He pushed the middle of his wiry glasses towards the bridge of his nose, the frame carving through his emerald hair, before he turned in my direction. I saw a look of regret sprinkled with disdain. Ultimately, however, as he registered the pain of receiving comeuppance coming from my gaze, I saw the faint tug of a smile at his lips. He had cheered for Seirin when they were at their lowest, and no doubt he felt content to see that I was the loser.

I looked away from him as the loudspeaker came on. "Congratulations to Seirin High School for winning the Winter Cup!"

The spectators once again erupted into a cheer, and Seirin's captain, Hyuga, held the large trophy triumphantly above his head. The team raised its collective fists in the air. I looked to my left to see Kagami and Kuroko, one arm around the other's shoulder, shouting in victorious glee.

Seeing Kagami plunged me back into the memory from what seemed like moments ago: he drove towards the basket, coming in off of the roll at inhuman speed. I was quick to match him, standing in front of him moments later.

I had stared at Kagami with every fiber of my being. With my eyes, I deciphered the future. I had seen every minute muscle movement that he possibly could have made, and I knew what was coming. But he and Kuroko knew that I knew, and the ball passed right outside of my grasp. With Kagami past me, I panicked.

 _Impossible_ , I had thought. _I am the absolute. My defeat is something that cannot happen._

How wrong I was.

I jumped as high as I could - as high as my short stature would let me. Enough to dunk, but not nearly enough to stop him. At that moment, with Kagami several feet above me and slamming the ball through the hoop, I was posterized in the most embarrassing fashion.

My eyes had been beaten, and I had been broken. I sat on the floor of the court, shock flowing through my body.

I willed myself away from the memory, only to see Kuroko. "...ulations to Rakuzan High School for winning second place!"

Oh, Kuroko. I am so sorry. For my failures as a mentor, as a captain, as a friend. What I did to you, to your friend, to your love of basketball. I was so afraid. So consumed by fear that I tore the team apart. I should have kept them at practice, I should have been more fun, I should have been more… I should have been better. But that's no excuse. I don't know how you could ever forgive me.

Akashi Seijuurou - the pinnacle of selfishness, arrogance, and false promises. What good is it to see the future of others when you can't even see the future of yourself? A future where I lost. Who knew that would come to pass? Certainly not me.

I don't know how much time I spent in my thoughts - it seemed like hours had passed. The crowds had died down and were exiting the room.

"Come on, Sei-chan."

Mibuchi's voice soothed my ears and my mind. I looked towards the effeminate shooting guard, and a contrived smile was plastered on his face. The others looked at me similarly, though I could sense their disappointment.

"Right." I said quietly.

And so, we took the train back to Kyoto, the burden of defeat upon us.

I awoke to, once again, Mibuchi. He was tapping my shoulder and telling me that we would be arriving in a few moments. I rubbed my eyes and face before I stood up.

While I stretched out and my joints popped, I could feel the looks from the Rakuzan second and third string, especially the older ones. I had come on as a first year and taken the role of captain from any other elder prospects. No doubt there was resentment considering I had stated for so long that we would be the winners.

 _I am the absolute._ What a pathetic thing to say.

The train rolled to a stop. I followed behind Hayama as we walked through the doors, and immediately, I saw my chauffeur. A slim, black car with the Akashi symbol present on the doors.

I turned to our coach. "Coach, my ride is here."

The coach, Shirogane Eiji, was a middle-aged man with lines of grey in his hair and piercing eyes. He looked at me and nodded.

"Okay, Akashi. I will see you next week."

The other members of the first string said their goodbyes as well, and I walked down the stairs and across the path to where the car was parked. The chauffeur, a tall, slim man with aging eyes and a bald head who wore white gloves and held a cain, opened the door to the back seat for me.

"Akashi-san, Akashi-sama is eager to speak with you."

I did my best to hide my disappointment.

"I'm sure he is. Let's not keep him waiting."

The door closed behind me. I tried to get comfortable, but as we drove through the streets of Kyoto towards the Akashi residence, the apprehension welled within my stomach.

The car drove through the quarter-mile driveway slowly. Foliage and cleanly cut grass adorned the path on either side, and the fountain in the courtyard flowed strong.

"Akashi-sama is in his study. He expects your presence immediately."

At this point, I felt I was merely going through the motions. Taking my bags out, walking through the ornate front door, changing shoes, walking up the stairs to my room. I removed my basketball uniform and transferred into something respectable in which I could approach my father.

As I walked slowly towards his study, impending doom snaked through my veins. Shadows of doubt, of hatred, of disappointment - all crushing me. I came to the door. I stood silently for a few moments. I breathed heavily and shook my head. I gripped the copper knocker lightly and banged it three times. The response was quick, like a sword through someone's heart on the night of an assassination. My heart - my assassination.

"Enter."

I opened the door and stepped inside. The room was dark save for a lamp on the large desk at the center of the room. Many organized stacks of paper were on it along with a cup, a calculator, and a few other things. Behind the desk were three large computer monitors. I tried to glimpse at what was on them, but I heard a click and the screens when dark.

I bowed deeply.

"Sit down, Seijuurou."

My father gestured to a chair in front of his desk. I did as he commanded and sat down, looking up to him. He was a well-kept man. Creases on his forehead were the only sign of his relatively advanced age, and his skin was fair. He wore no facial hair.

I thought my eyes were intense, but my father was on a whole different level. I swallowed and gritted my teeth as he examined me in silence. I waited for him to break the tension.

"I saw that you lost the Winter Cup."

"Yes, father." I said.

"Tell me, Seijuurou, what should an Akashi strive to do?" He questioned.

"Strive to excel in everything he does."

"And what is the pinnacle of excellence?"

"...Winning." I responded.

"Correct - winning. Winners are affirmed completely, and losers are cast aside. Our family has the fortune that we do because me, my father, and his father all won over our competitors. You have had the life that you have because of our victories."

Was this the life I wanted, though?

"Is that understood?" My father prodded.

"Yes, father."

Another silence filled the air. His gaze was unwavering, and I felt helpless. This must have been what it was like for my teammates to face my other self.

 _It feels good. All that power._

My father coughed lightly. "Tell me - how did you lose?"

A chill ran down my spine. I don't think I want to recall the details again myself, let alone explain it to my father.

"Father, Seirin proved to be the better team. They were beyond my expectations, and they worked together well to-"

"That's not what I am asking, Seijuurou." My father glared at me. I stopped talking, awaiting him to continue.

"Nebuya Eikichi, Mibuchi Reo, Hayama Kotarou, Mayuzumi Chihiro, and you. The most skilled and powerful team in Rakuzan history, and you lost." He paused. "You were given the tools you needed to dominate others, and you not only shamed your school, but yourself and your family."

My heart raced. I had these thoughts moments after we had lost, but I never imagined I would hear someone else say it. I suppose he would be the most likely to say it.

"You trod upon your mother's grave with your failures." He said.

The blood in my veins turned from ice to boiling water in moments. I glared at my father in an attempt to match his eyes.

"What do you think mother would say if she saw what you had become?" I asked, crushing the arm of the chair beneath my fist.

"...What did you say?"

"Basketball was the one thing she left me! The ONLY thing!" I yelled. "And you, father, pushed victory onto me. Yes, I would excel, but to do that to the one element of freedom I have in my life? The one memory I have of her that I can cherish? What kind of father are you?!"

It was when my father stood that I realized I was standing, pointing my finger into his face.

He was livid. The only sound was my rapid breathing before he broke the silence.

"You DARE mention her? Bringing you into this world eventually tore her away from me. I do this to you to honor her memory. What would she think of you if she saw you failed like this?"

"I think she would still love me, unlike you!"

I gasped in the eery quiet of the study, wishing I could retract my words.

"Get out of my sight." He said.

"Father, I-"

"GO!"

I bowed and quickly left the room. I walked back quickly to my quarters and closed the door once I was inside, millions of thoughts running through my head. All I wanted was his approval. His love. I gritted my teeth and willed back tears.

 _What is lost in victory would be gained in defeat._

Was it worth it?


End file.
